


Haven

by DPPatricks



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Episode Related, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-11 01:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16465892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DPPatricks/pseuds/DPPatricks
Summary: A ficlet of events shortly after 'The Fix.'





	Haven

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: this story was inspired by the Me_and_Thee 100’s Challenge 445: Haven. Thanks, taass!

Starsky knew his partner had very nearly reached the end of his rope but, true to his stubborn Norwegian nature, he refused to give in to the terrors he’d been through and Jeannie’s final betrayal. She didn’t even have the guts to stick around and see if they could make something of their damaged relationship. So, fine, Starsky thought. Fuck her and the horse she rode in on! She probably never loved his partner in the first place, she was looking for someone to rescue her from the mess she’d made of her life and Hutch’s knight-in-shining-armor persona had caught her eye. Well, she was gone now and the knight’s armor wasn’t shiny at all right now. It would be again, in time, but Jeannie didn’t have enough character to hang around and help polish it back up. Good riddance!

Starsky dragged his mind away from unkind thoughts of Jeannie Walton and focused on his best friend. Hutch leaned against the wall in Booking, his normally sky-blue eyes dull and glazed. Knowing Ben Forest would be in the pair of uniforms’ and photographer’s charge for another minute or so, Starsky walked over and put a gentle hand on Hutch’s arm. 

“I’m okay, Starsk.” 

“I know you are but you’re startin’ to scare the guys waitin’ to have their mug shots taken.” Hutch glanced around and Starsky quickly stepped into his line of sight. “Just kiddin’, buddy. You really do look like shit, though. Won’t you let me get one of these uniforms to take you…”

“Home?”

Starsky shook his head, angry with himself for not realizing the impossibility of that idea. “Naw, ‘course not. Fifi and her gang’ll need a couple of days to get your place back in shape after the mess the crime scene boys probably left. But you could go to my place. Once Forest’s lawyer gets here he’ll probably clam up, so the rest of this won’t take too long.”

“I want to be there when you do the interview, Starsk.”

“Hutch…”

“I won’t say a word. That’s a promise. I only want to be there.”

“Dobey won’t like it.”

“He’ll understand.”

“Yeah. He will.” Starsky stepped back and appraised his worn-out, pieces-held-together-with-willpower-only partner. “Will you at least sit down until we get this process finished?”

Hutch shifted sideways and sat on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs that lined the wall next to him. 

Starsky gave the back of Hutch’s neck a soft squeeze before moving over to take charge of Forest and drag him to the fingerprint tech. Turning the sullen drug lord over to the uniforms again, he checked to make sure Hutch’s thousand-yard-stare was directed toward Forest and not him, then moved to the phone at the end of the room. Dialing ‘nine,’ he waited for an outside line and dialed quickly. “Huggy… Yeah, it’s me. I got him…. No, he’s not okay, but he will be…. Jeannie split…. My sentiments exactly. Listen, Hutch needs a place to stay for a few days and I’m really hoping you can help me with what I’ve got in mind.”

*******

Starsky drove the Torino into the alley behind The Pits and parked. Hutch woke out of his doze and sat up. As soon as he realized where they were, he shuddered. “Starsky… I can’t go in there.”

Starsky put a hand on his partner’s arm. “Sure you can. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known. You can do anything you set your mind to.”

“I don’t want anybody to see me like this, Starsk.”

“We’ll go in the back way. Like we did the last time.”

“I don’t remember the last time.”

“That’s okay. Huggy knows we’re coming and he’ll run interference for us. We’ll just duck up the stairs and nobody’ll even see us.”

“Starsk…”

“Trust me, babe.” He opened his door, ran around and opened Hutch’s. When he held out his hand, his partner, clearly reluctant, took it. Starsky pulled him out of the car, locked the doors, and supported him up the few steps. Opening the door, he followed Hutch inside. 

Huggy was waiting. “Anita’s got the whole place goin’ in a sing-along. Nobody’s gonna notice you two.”

“Thanks, Hug.”

“My pleasure, Starsky.” Huggy tried to hide a grimace as he appraised Hutch. “You ain’t lookin’ so good, my blond brother, but I think I got the cure right upstairs.”

With Huggy’s help, Starsky got Hutch up to the second floor. Huggy darted ahead and, with a flourish, threw open the door to the room that had been the site of Hutch’s recent forty eight hours of Hell. 

Hutch’s and Starsky’s jaws dropped at the same time. Instead of the normally bare-bones room, they were greeted by what appeared to be a glen in the center of a woodland. Small trees of every variety were clustered in large rustic pots. Baskets holding all kinds of plants hung from the ceiling. 

Starsky was as blown away as Hutch. “I never expected this, Hug, when I suggested a few growing things. How’d you manage?” 

Huggy shut the door behind them. “A cousin of mine’s a greensman with a Hollywood production company. He’s got more of this stuff than he can ever use and was happy to loan us a truckful for a while. Him and his crew’ll come back for ‘em after they’ve served their purpose.”

Hutch stood in the center of the room and turned slowly. “This place was a hideout for me.” When his eyes met Starsky’s all the dullness was gone, replaced by contentment and hope. “Now it’s a haven.”

Huggy moved back toward the door. “And for the evening’s repast, may I recommend the newest addition to our menu?”

“You experimenting again, Huggy?” Starsky allowed only a little sarcasm into his tone.

“Not so’s you’d notice, Starsky. This particular combination has been in my family for a very long time.”

Skepticism was blatant on Hutch’s tired face. “And what… combination would that be, Mr. Bear?”

“A hamburger with peanut butter and my Aunt Celia’s sour plum jam.”

Starsk choked on a laugh. “A p.b. and j. hamburger? That sounds terrible even to me!”

“Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it, Starsky.”

Starsky turned to Hutch, expecting reinforcement of his instant negative reaction. Instead, the blond’s expression was contemplative. “Actually… I’d like to try one of those.”

Huggy beamed. “Always knew you were a man of refinement, Hutch.” He opened the door before turning back and pointing toward where Starsky knew there was a stained glass window in the wall. “Table and chairs are behind those fichus trees and corn plants. Be back with two special Specials in a jiffy.”

As the door closed behind Huggy, Hutch slumped into the thrift store arm chair. “That wasn’t quite as difficult as I thought it would be.”

Starsky sat on the edge of the bed. “I told you, Hutch, you’ve got a well of strength you ain’t even tapped yet.”

Hutch’s smile was rueful but it was a smile. “Don’t feel very strong right now.”

“That’s ‘cause you haven’t had your p.b. and j. hamburger yet!”

Hutch shuddered. “What did I get us into?”

Starsky was actually beginning to salivate. “If I know Huggy, and I do, I’ll bet they’ll be pretty darn great!”

Hutch grew silent and Starsky realized his partner was staring at the bed Starsky was sitting on. When he spoke, his voice was nearly inaudible. “I don’t know about trying to sleep in that bed, Starsk.”

Starsky jumped up as if prodded, turned and backed up to stand next to Hutch. “Yeah. I never thought about that.” When an idea occurred to him, he didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, raised the covers and grabbed the carry handles. “Make some room, Hutch!”

Hutch got up and shoved the chair out of the way as Starsky pulled the mattress, with bedding, off the box spring and dragged it over to a ‘stand’ of trees. After he’d shoved it next to the row of pots, he positioned a few smaller shrubs around the ends, stepped back and surveyed the arrangement.

Hutch stood next to him and leaned against his shoulder. “It’s like being out in the woods… without the ants and mosquitoes.”

“Yeah, without those!” Starsky glanced at his partner. “Think that makes it different enough that you could sleep there?”

Hutch’s return gaze was vulnerable. “If you’ll be next to me… I think so.”

Starsky smiled into the need and watched Hutch relax. “Nowhere else, partner. I’ll be right beside you.”

Hutch nodded firmly. “Then, yes, I think it’ll be fine.”

A knock sounded on the door and Starsky threw it open. 

Huggy strode in carrying a large tray. Shoving through the corn plant leaves, he laid it on the table. “Two Huggy Bear Special Specials!” He turned as Starsky and Hutch moved a few plants out of the way and sat down in the Goodwill dining chairs. “Feast on those, m’ brothers!” Without another word, he left, closing the door softly behind him.

Starsky watched warily as Hutch cut his construction down the middle and picked up half. When the first tentative bite produced eyes widening with pleasure, Starsky grabbed his own overflowing bun.

*******

Street lights shining through the stained glass lent a bright, soft illumination to the greenery-shrouded room. Starsky sat at the top of the mattress with his back against a large pot. Neither of them had shed his clothes and Starsky figured it wouldn’t be the first time they’d slept in them.

Hutch was stretched on top of the covers, his head in Starsky’s lap. “Peanut butter and jelly on a hamburger. Who’d’ve thought?”

Starsky chuckled. “Huggy.” He ruffled Hutch’s hair. “They were good, though.”

“Sure were. Special Specials, indeed!” 

For a long time, neither of them spoke and Starsky hoped Hutch had fallen asleep. 

Soft words finally put the lie to that notion. “The room’s nice. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Hutch’s left hand crept under Starsky’s right thigh. “But you’re my real haven, Starsk. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, Hutch. Just like you’re mine.”

“Guess we’re stuck with each other, huh?”

“For better or worse.”

“God, I hope this is the worst of the ‘worse.’”

“It’ll get better. Trust me.”

“Always.”

With memories of peanut-butter-and-jelly hamburgers in his mind and his partner’s soft words in his heart, Starsky smiled, leaned his head back against the rim of the pot, and slept.

 

END


End file.
